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Sweden has a long history of being a sporting nation. blacks, to Hispanics, to gay and lesbian students — is, 'You are too weak to live with freedom. Translation and English equivalent: All that glitters is not gold. Translation: Everything has its time. Meaning: Family relationships remain strong across great distances. I'm not even talking about the: slack-off, skip class, smoke weed, drink and party but Because I could pass your tests if I had to, but you couldn't stand for a single Who knows, maybe Alex knows everything and it's just taking him a long time to . If you find someone who loves the subject and learns about it for fun, not. An open relationship is an intimate relationship which is consensually non- monogamous. This term may sometimes refer to polyamory, but it is often used to signify a To a large degree, open relationships are a generalization of the concept of a or both partners desiring more freedom, companionship, intellectual variety.
Love is the answer, but while you're waiting for the question, sex raises some pretty interesting questions. Who sings of all of Love's eternity Who shines so bright In all the songs of Love's unending spells? Holy lightning strikes all that's evil Teaching us to love for goodness sake. Hear the music of Love Eternal Teaching us to reach for goodness sake.
Jon Andersonin "Loved by the Sun", from movie Legend YouTube video We, unaccustomed to courage live coiled in shells of loneliness until love leaves its high holy temple and comes into our sight to liberate us into life. Yet it is only love which sets us free. A Brave and Startling Truth. Unconscionable Love, bane and tormentor of mankind, parent of strife, fountain of tears, source of a thousand ills.
Rieu Whatever we do or suffer for a friend is pleasant, because love is the principal cause of pleasure. In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities. Life's Idealp. Remember that time slurs over everything, let all deeds fade, blurs all writings and kills all memories.
Exempt are only those which dig into the hearts of men by love. Polish Academy of Sciences,page 72 All our young lives we search for someone to love. Someone who makes us complete.
We choose partners and change partners. We dance to a song of heartbreak and hope. All the while wondering if somewhere, somehow, there's someone perfect who might be searching for us. Are even lovers powerless to reveal To one another what indeed they feel? I knew the mass of men conceal'd Their thoughts, for fear that if reveal'd They would by other men be met With blank indifference, or with blame reproved; I knew they lived and moved Trick'd in disguises, alien to the rest Of men, and alien to themselves — and yet The same heart beats in every human breast!
Ah, love, let us be true To one another! Matthew ArnoldDover BeachSt. Matthew ArnoldCulture and AnarchyCh. I, Sweetness and Light Full text online What love will make you do All the things that we accept Be the things that we regret AshantiFoolish January 29, from the April 2, album Ashanti The Eskimo has fifty-two names for snow because it is important to them; there ought to be as many for love.
Margaret AtwoodSurfacing p. The Eskimos had 52 names for snow because it was important to them; there ought to be as many for love. Hunger allows no choice To the citizen or the police; We must love one another or die.
AudenSeptember 1, Lines ; for a anthology text the poet changed this line to "We must love one another and die" to avoid what he regarded as a falsehood in the original.
Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: Love, and do what thou wilt: Love and then what you will, do. What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like. What sort of shape does it have? What sort of height does it have?
What sort of feet does it have? What sort of hands does it have? No one can say. You lose the taste. Count Mippipopolous, in Book 1, Ch. You've lost touch with the soil. Fake European standards have ruined you. You drink yourself to death. You become obsessed by sex. You spend all your time talking, not working.
You are an expatriate, see? He raised his baton. The car slowed suddenly pressing Brett against me. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry. All thinking men are atheists. A doctor who cannot take out your appendix properly will recommend you to a doctor who will be unable to remove your tonsils with success. You're all I've got.
We had heard them, sometimes standing in the rain almost out of earshot, so that only the shouted words came through, and had read them, on proclamations that were slapped up by billposters over other proclamations, now for a long time, and I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it.
I'd like to see you with a beard. I'll start now this minute. It's a good idea. It will give me something to do. Catherine died and you will die and I will die and that is all I can promise you. No, that is the great fallacy: They do not grow wise. All our words from loose using have lost their edge. The great artist goes beyond what has been done or known and makes something of his own.
There are some things which cannot be learned quickly, and time, which is all we have, must be paid heavily for their acquiring. About morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after. There is honor among pickpockets and honor among whores. It is simply that the standards differ. If two people love each other there can be no happy end to it. It is a word that fills with meaning as a bladder with air and the meaning goes out of it as quickly.
It may be punctured as a bladder is punctured and patched and blown up again and if you have not had it it does not exist for you. All people talk of it, but those who have had it are marked by it, and I would not wish to speak of it further since of all things it is the most ridiculous to talk of and only fools go through it many times.
The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one-eighth of it being above water. A writer who omits things only because he does not know them only makes hollow places in his writing. A serious writer is not to be confused with a solemn writer. A serious writer may be a hawk or a buzzard or even a popinjaybut a solemn writer is always a bloody owl.
A character is a caricature.
Love - Wikiquote
They are the very simplest things and because it takes a man's life to know them the little new that each man gets from life is very costly and the only heritage he has to leave. A Letter from Cuba" in Esquire December All good books are alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened and after you are finished reading one you will feel that all that happened to you and afterwards it all belongs to you; the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse, and sorrow, the people and the places and how the weather was.
If you can get so that you can give that to people, then you are a writer. The hardest thing to do is to write straight honest prose on human beings. First you have to know the subject; then you have to know how to write. Both take a lifetime to learn, and anybody is cheating who takes politics as a way out. All the outs are too easy, and the thing itself is too hard to do. Now a writer can make himself a nice career while he is alive by espousing a political cause, working for it, making a profession of believing in it, and if it wins he will be very well placed.
All politics is a matter of working hard without reward, or with a living wage for a time, in the hope of booty later. A man can be a Fascist or a Communist and if his outfit gets in he can get to be an ambassador or have a million copies of his books printed by the Government or any of the other rewards the boys dream about. Personal columnists … are jackals and no jackal has been known to live on grass once he had learned about meat — no matter who killed the meat for him. If the book is good, is about something that you know, and is truly written, and reading it over you see that this is so, you can let the boys yip and the noise will have that pleasant sound coyotes make on a very cold night when they are out in the snow and you are in your own cabin that you have built or paid for with your work.
All the critics who could not make their reputations by discovering you are hoping to make them by predicting hopefully your approaching impotence, failure and general drying up of natural juices. Not a one will wish you luck or hope that you will keep on writing unless you have political affiliations in which case these will rally around and speak of you and Homer, Balzac, Zola and Link Steffens.
A Serious Topical Letter" first published in Esquire September In modern war there is nothing sweet nor fitting in your dying. You will die like a dog for no good reason. No catalogue of horrors ever kept men from war. Before the war you always think that it's not you that dies. But you will die, brother, if you go to it long enough.
The first panacea for a mismanaged nation is inflation of the currency; the second is war. Both bring a temporary prosperity; both bring a permanent ruin. War is no longer made by simply analysed economic forces if it ever was. War is made or planned now by individual men, demagogues and dictators who play on the patriotism of their people to mislead them into a belief in the great fallacy of war when all their vaunted reforms have failed to satisfy the people they misrule. We in America should see that no man is ever given, no matter how gradually or how noble and excellent the man, the power to put this country into a war which is now being prepared and brought closer each day with all the pre-meditation of a long planned murder.
For when you give power to an executive you do not know who will be filling that position when the time of crisis comes. They wrote in the old days that it is sweet and fitting to die for ones country.
But in modern war there is nothing sweet nor fitting in your dying. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. Sweet and glorious it is to die for our country. Elgood Hit in the head you will die quickly and cleanly even sweetly and fittingly except for the white blinding flash that never stops, unless perhaps it is only the frontal bone or your optic nerve that is smashed, or your jaw carried away, or your nose and cheek bones gone so you can still think but you have no face to talk with.
But if you are not hit in the head you will be hit in the chest, and choke in it, or in the lower belly, and feel it all slip and slide loosely as you open, to spill out when you try to get up, it's not supposed to be so painful but they always scream with it, it's the idea I suppose, or have the flash, the slamming clang of high explosive on a hard road and find your legs are gone above the knee, or maybe just a foot gone and watch the white bone sticking through your puttee, or watch them take a boot off with your foot a mush inside it, or feel an arm flop and learn how a bone feels grating, or you will burn, choke and vomit, or be blown to hell a dozen ways, without sweetness or fittingness: But both are the refuge of political and economic opportunists.
All American writing comes from that. There was nothing before. There has been nothing as good since. Writers are forged in injustice as a sword is forged. The best sky was in Italy and Spain and northern Michigan in the fall and in the fall in the Gulf off Cuba. That attitude you only get from the best of the English, the best of the Hungarians and the very best Spaniards; the thing that used to be the most clear distinction of nobility when there was nobility.
It is an ignorant attitude and the people who have it do not survive, but very few pleasanter things ever happen to you than the encountering of it. My, I was a damned fool. I broke my own heart, too. It's broken and gone.
Everything I believe in and everything I cared about I left for you because you were so wonderful and you loved me so much that love was all that mattered. Love was the greatest thing, wasn't it? Love was what we had that no one else had or could ever have? And you were a genius and I was your whole life.
I was your partner and your little black flower. Love is just another dirty lie. Love is ergoapiol pills to make me come around because you were afraid to have a baby. Love is that quinine and quinine and quinine until I'm deaf with it. Love is that dirty aborting horror that you took me to. Love is my insides all messed up. Its half atheters and half whirling douches. I know about love. Love always hangs up behind the bathroom door. It smells like Lysol.
Drowning in commitments? It's time to stop giving a damn | Life and style | The Guardian
To hell with love. Love is you making me happy and then going off to sleep with your mouth open while I lie awake all night afraid to say my prayers even because I know I have no right to any more. Love is all the dirty little tricks you taught me that you probably got out of some book. I'm through with you and I'm through with love.
Your kind of picknose love. Helen Gordon to her husband Richard Gordon in Ch. These articles are very popular in Esthonia and bring their authors between a dollar and a dollar and thirty cents a column. They take the place occupied by the baseball or football news in American newspapers and are run under the heading of Sagas of Our Intrepid Voyagers. No well-run yacht basin in Southern waters is complete without at least two sun-burned, salt bleached-headed Esthonians who are waiting for a check from their last article.
When it comes they will set sail to another yacht basin and write another saga. They are very happy too. Almost as happy as the people on the Alzira III. It's great to be an Intrepid Voyager.
The world is a fine place and worth the fighting for and I hate very much to leave it. Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be. But what will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today. It's been that way all this year. It's been that way so many times. All of war is that way. I am no romantic glorifier of the Spanish woman, nor did I ever think of a casual piece as anything much other than a casual piece in any country. But when I am with Maria I love her so that I feel, literally, as though I would die and I never believed in that or thought that it could happen.
You go along your whole life and they seem as though they mean something and they always end up not meaning anything. There was never any of what this is. You think that is one thing you will never have. And then, on a lousy show like this, co-ordinating two chicken-crut guerilla bands to help you blow a bridge under impossible conditions, to abort a counter-offensive that will probably already be started, you run into a girl like this Maria.
Ch 43 There's no one thing that's true. Ch 43 For him it was a dark passage which led to nowhere, then to nowhere, then again to nowhere, once again to nowhere, always and forever to nowhere, heavy on the elbows in the earth to nowhere, dark, never any end to nowhere, hung on all time always to unknowing nowhere, this time and again for always to nowhere, now not to be borne once again always and to nowhere, now beyond all bearing up, up, up and into nowhere, suddenly, scaldingly, holdingly all nowhere gone and time absolutely still and they were both there, time having stopped and he felt the earth move out and away from under them.
- I deleted my social media apps because they were turning me into an idiot
- Drowning in commitments? It's time to stop giving a damn
- Swedish proverbs
Where would we all be if you just said, "Impossible," when orders came? That tomorrow should come and that I should be there. Introduction to Treasury of the Free World [ edit ] We have come out of the time when obedience, the acceptance of discipline, intelligent courage and resolution were most important, into that more difficult time when it is a man's duty to understand his world rather than simply fight for it.
It would be easy for us, if we do not learn to understand the world and appreciate the rights, privileges and duties of al other countries and peoples, to represent in our power the same danger to the world that Facism did. No weapon has ever settled a moral problem.
It can impose a solution but it cannot guarantee it to be a just one. You can wipe out your opponents. But if you do it unjustly you become eligible for being wiped out yourself. An aggressive war is the great crime against everything good in the world. A defensive war, which must necessarily turn to aggressive at the earliest moment, is the necessary great counter-crime. But never think that war, no matter how necessary, nor how justified, is not a crime.
Ask the infantry and ask the dead. We have fought this war and won it. Now let us not be sanctimonious; nor hypocritical; nor vengeful; nor stupid. Let us make our enemies incapable of ever making war again, let us re-educate them, let us learn to live in peace and justice with all countries and all peoples in this world.
To do this we must educate and re-educate. But first we must educate ourselves. Across the River and into the Trees [ edit ] They started two hours before daylight, and at first, it was not necessary to break the ice across the canal as other boats had gone on ahead. In each boat, in the darkness, so you could not see, but only hear him, the poler stood in the stern, with his long oar.
The shooter sat on a shooting stool fastened to the top of a box that contained his lunch and shells, and the shooter's two, or more, guns were propped against the load of wooden decoys.
Somewhere, in each boat, there was a sack with one or two live mallard hens, or a hen and a drake, and in each boat there was a dog who shifted and shivered uneasily at the sound of the wings of the ducks that passed overhead in the darkness.
I love your hard, flat body and your strange eyes that frighten me when they become wicked. I love your hand and all your other wounded places. Then one of them gets the emptiness for ever. A man can be destroyed but not defeated.
Is it to have one longer day? He always thought of the sea as la mar, which is what people call her in spanish when they love her. Sometimes those who love her say bad things of her, but they are always said as though she were a woman. Some of the younger fisherman, those who used buoys as floats for their lines or had motorboats bought when the shark lovers had much money, spoke of her as el mar, which is masculine, they spoke of her as a contestant or a place or even an enemy.
But the old man always thought of her as feminine, as something that gave or withheld great favors. If she did wild or wicked things, it is because she could not help them. The moon affects her as it does a woman, he thought. Let him think I am more man than I am and I will be so. Keep your head clear and know how to suffer like a man. Or a fish, he thought. There is no translation for this word and perhaps it is just a noise such as a man might make, involuntarily, feeling the nail go through his hands and into the wood.
Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what there is. Every day is a new day. It is better to be lucky. But I would rather be exact.
Then when luck comes you are ready. You did not do so badly for something that is worthless. But there was a time when I could not find you. Cabot 10 December Full text online Things may not be immediately discernible in what a man writes, and in this sometimes he is fortunate; but eventually they are quite clear and by these and the degree of alchemy that he possesses he will endure or be forgotten. No writer who knows the great writers who did not receive the Prize can accept it other than with humility.
There is no need to list these writers. Everyone here may make his own list according to his knowledge and his conscience. Things may not be immediately discernible in what a man writes, and in this sometimes he is fortunate; but eventually they are quite clear and by these and the degree of alchemy that he possesses he will endure or be forgotten.
Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer's loneliness but I doubt if they improve his writing. He grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates. For he does his work alone and if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it, each day. For a true writer each book should be a new beginning where he tries again for something that is beyond attainment.
He should always try for something that has never been done or that others have tried and failed. Then sometimes, with great luck, he will succeed. How simple the writing of literature would be if it were only necessary to write in another way what has been well written. It is because we have had such great writers in the past that a writer is driven far out past where he can go, out to where no one can help him.
A writer should write what he has to say and not speak it. Paris Review interview [ edit ] You make something through your invention that is not a representation but a whole new thing truer than anything true and alive, and you make it alive, and if you make it well enough, you give it immortality. Or rather you can if you will be ruthless enough about it. But the best writing is certainly when you are in love. Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure only death can stop it.
I might say that what amateurs call a style is usually only the unavoidable awkwardnesses in first trying to make something that has not heretofore been made. From things that have happened and from things as they exist and from all things that you know and all those you cannot know, you make something through your invention that is not a representation but a whole new thing truer than anything true and alive, and you make it alive, and if you make it well enough, you give it immortality.
That is why you write and for no other reason that you know of. But what about all the reasons that no one knows? The most essential gift for a good writer is a built-in, shock-proof, shit detector. This is the writer's radar and all great writers have had it. Survival, with honor, that outmoded and all-important word, is as difficult as ever and as all-important to a writer.
Those who do not last are always more beloved since no one has to see them in their long, dull, unrelenting, no-quarter-given-and-no-quarter-received, fights that they make to do something as they believe it should be done before they die. Those who die or quit early and easy and with every good reason are preferred because they are understandable and human.
Failure and well-disguised cowardice are more human and more beloved.